


A Pace Unknown

by Finian



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood Drinking, Demigod!Jeremy, Fake AH Crew, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Just you wait - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Other, Vampires, banshee!ryan, gavin wears stupid expensive clothing, mythical creatures AU, oh there will be more relationship tags added, vampire!geoff, witch!Gavin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2019-11-28 07:51:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18205619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finian/pseuds/Finian
Summary: The way his voice gets all high and strained when he yells almost made pissing him off on a regular basis worth it- worth it until he’s not yelling and instead he’s sliding his ever-present sunglasses down the bridge of his crooked nose with blue-black inked fingers and then he finally realizes he’s really actually fucked up for once. His eyes are tired, heavy lidded, and- blue, so bright set into the bruising creeping up from his cheekbones. Ryan couldn’t remember if he’d known that. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember the colors of anyone in the crew’s eyes.Maybe he just had a problem with eye contact.





	1. How dare you speak of grace?

The way his voice gets all high and strained when he yells almost made pissing him off on a regular basis worth it- worth it until he’s not yelling and instead he’s sliding his ever-present sunglasses down the bridge of his crooked nose with blue-black inked fingers and then he finally realizes he’s really actually fucked up for once. His eyes are tired, heavy lidded, and- blue, so bright set into the bruising creeping up from his cheekbones. Ryan couldn’t remember if he’d known that. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember the colors of anyone in the crew’s eyes.

Maybe he just had a problem with eye contact.

“Listen, asshole,” He was quiet, venom drained out of his words as he spoke again, “I get it. You get your hands on a gun and you wanna see some blood, _I get it._ ”

“Geoff-”

“Don’t _fucking_ interrupt me. I know you wanna see blood- hell, dude, I wanna see it, we all do, but you gotta stop being trouble just to be trouble. The guys could use a win. Or, yanno, at least a job that doesn’t end with us all waking up in the penthouse still screaming.” He barely gave him a moment to think, to respond, standing and pushing the papers in front of him off of the kitchen table. “That make sense? Just go a few jobs without killing us all for fun, dickwad.”

“Yeah Rye, Waffle-o.” Geoff’s head snapped towards the door, mouth open to scream at whoever had just interrupted him, but Ryan could tell by the way that his eyes went soft again that it was Gavin. “M’I interrupting something important? Or just you yelling?”

“Just him yelling. Loud and clear, Geoff.” Gavin rounded the table, past where Ryan was still sitting, and perched himself at the edge to show off some tacky, sheer silk shirt that probably cost more than whatever they’d made in their last few jobs combined. Point taken.

“Good! It’s about time for dinner, if you’re done.” Geoff scoffed, turning to pick at some piece of non-existent lint on his shoulder.

“Ryan, I know you’re new- not Jeremy-new, but he caught on to shit a lot quicker than you did. You’re a fuckin’ wild card, man.”

“I don’t know that blowing up the plane a few times really justifies ‘wild card’, but sure. More like the only guy who knows how to have fun.”

“Hello? Dinner anyone? It’s almost eight-” 

And then Geoff reached out, grabbing Gavin by the head- and for a moment, Ryan was sure that he wasn’t going to see Gavin alive in that room much longer. Instead of twisting his head clean off like Ryan had assumed (and alright, would have done himself, but getting his hands on that scrawny neck was just so _tempting_ could you even blame him?), Geoff clamped his mouth down on the side of his neck, under his jaw. Geoff was weird, sure, but even that was a little much for him, wasn’t it? And a little much for their crewmate as well, with the way Gavin squealed, voice trailing off into some loud birdsong, before batting at Geoff’s shoulders with his hands. 

“Geoff! Geoff, that bloody hurt, be a little more gentle, yeah?” Instead of pulling away, Geoff just groaned low in his chest.

Ryan figured that was his cue to get up and get the fuck out of the kitchen, but unlike the high adrenaline-fueled fight or flight of a heist, his body was stuck. A bead of blood collected just at the corner of Geoff’s mouth ( _how bad was Gavin bleeding?_ ) and followed a slow meander to stop and sop up into his ridiculously expensive silk collar. After a moment of swatting, Gavin relaxed, slinging his arms over Geoff’s shoulders.

“I’m- listen, I don’t want to interrupt, but could you not do whatever weird fetish shit you’re doing _on the kitchen table_?” His voice was rushed, quiet, running on impulse and trying to ignore the growing purple stain on that too-blue shirt that looked like it was going to slip off of Gavin’s shoulders at any moment.

“It’s the dinner table, it’s for _dinner_.” The way he hit the ‘uh’ at the end of dinner got Ryan’s blood boiling for a pre-emptive moment, a quick flash of rage, but he wrote it off on his moment of shock and let it pass without acting on the impulse. And it was a good thing, too, because Geoff was busy parting from Gavin’s neck, leaving behind a circle of little puncture wounds, a bite print like a forensic study skull. 

It was almost funny- the blood smeared across his lips and cheeks made him look like he’d been dancing the night away at the club, hooking up with one of the girls always in line to buy him a drink- if it weren’t for the way Geoff was staring at him, blue irises gone so light that they almost looked white, ringed black around the edges. The whites of his eyes looked bloodshot, more bloodshot than every time he’d come back from blowing off steam to find him and Ray passing a bong back and forth in the lounge.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said you were slow on the uptake, _fetish shit?_ ”

“You really don’t know? Geoff, he doesn’t know?”

“If I knew, would I be asking?” He stood, finally, joints popping- it had been such a long day. He had half a mind to pop a bullet between his eyes and respawn feeling fresh.

“It’s slittin’ Twilight in this bitch!” He didn’t have to look at Geoff to feel him dropping his face into his hands, the little puff of breath as he tried not to laugh was evidence enough.  
“I mean, god, yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“You’re a _vampire_? An honest to god vampire?” He did drag his eyes away from Gavin, then, away from his still-bleeding neck. ( _’I know you wanna see blood-’ it made so much sense now, blood!_ )

“Yeah- and yeah, everyone knows, and yeah, I know you have an ass-ton of questions, but I’m fucking exhausted so you get one now and I’ll let Gavin handle the rest.”

One question. When? How? How was he the only one who didn’t know? When was Geoff going to tell him? Vampires were real? How could he go out in the sun, then? Why did he age? Though, if he was only getting one-

“You trust Gavin enough to drink his blood? Gross.”


	2. Laid out One by One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan discovers something new about everyone, it seems.

“So let me get this straight-”

“For the thousandth _fucking_ time, Ryan, _yes_ , I’m a vampire, Jesus.”

“But I’ve seen you in the sun!” His voice strained, and he threw his arms out in front of him as if he could illustrate the point he was making like it was a Disney channel celebrity bump, “I’ve seen you do lots of things that should kill vampires!”

“C’mon, Rye, don’t you think that’s a little vamp-phobic?” A flash of annoyance crossed his mind at how Gavin had yet to fix his shirt, and how much he looked like a kid wearing his dad’s pajamas. Normally he would have ignored it, but- well, an opportunity to get close to the bite wound for a second look was one he would take. His feet moved before his mind caught up, taking a step closer to the desk to pluck at the collar and drag it up closer to the bite, catching a trail of blood in the process on the side of his knuckle. 

Gavin took his hand and licked it off, clearly an attempt to be even just a little suave, before gagging and turning away again. 

“Gross, dude.” It was good that the shirt was already ruined, because he didn’t think twice about wiping his hand clean on it. “Is vamp-phobia real? Am I being vampire racist by being confused that you seem to not follow the basic fucking rules for being a vampire?”

“Who do you think wrote those rules?” There he went, voice high and squealing again as he threw his hands up into the air, ink-blue fingers splayed and tense. “Humans! Besides, why would we give them the whole goddamn playbook on how to hurt us? It’s all bullshit. On purpose!”

“Just like the witches and swimming thing,” Gavin chimed in, recovered from his almost-puking, “Absolute bollocks. You’ve seen me swim.”

“Swimming is a stretch. Falling out of a boat after getting shot is more accurate. Besides, religion is different from drinking blood and sleeping in a coffin.”

“ _For fuck’s sake Ryan you’ve seen my goddamn bed!_ ” Geoff was nearly screeching, knocking a stack of papers from the counter behind him as he moved, “And-”

“Geoffers, come off it. He’s just trying to piss you off.” Ryan could see the twinkle in Gavin’s eyes as he stood, grabbing for his arm to help him off the table. “I’ll tell our lovely Ryan here everything he needs to know, and then he’ll stop acting like a massive prick about it. 

“Am I acting like a massive prick? I don’t think I’m acting like a massive prick.” He let Gavin take his arm, rolling his eyes. “Fine, tell me everything I need to know, before you piss me off bad enough to warrant a trip through respawn.”

“Take a man to dinner first, yeah Rye?” Gavin fluttered his lashes, beaming an innocent smile up at him. Geoff barely muffled his groan, shouldering past them with some grumbled excuse about work.

“Please stop making my death threats sound sexy.” Ryan laughed, finally caving and looping his arm with Gavin’s as he’s lead out of the kitchen. Gavin stops short in the living room, pulling his arm away to grab Ryan by the shoulders and gently maneuver him to sitting on the couch so that he could sit on the ottoman across from him and slot their knees together, one between each of their legs.

“Ryan- could you do me a favor and not interrupt this time, Ryan?” Gavin parroted himself, not unlike every time he’d ever asked a question, reaching out to brace his hands on his knees. “Good boy. Sorry!” He must have been able to see the face Ryan was going to make before he made it, moving one hand up to squeeze his thigh. “Geoff’s a bloodsucker, I do magic- no, not like religion magic, real actual magic- and I’m not telling you everyone else’s business except for maybe that we’ve definitely got a werewolf on the squad and you’re the only ‘human’.” He could feel those air quotes, eyes narrowing.

“Gavin, I’m human, just because I get a little violent-”

“It’s not the violence, Rye, it’s just that- what are the odds of you being human on a team like this? I don’t think Geoff would have hired you if there weren’t something a little odd about you. Maybe you’re a witch too- we should do some magic! You and I!” He lit up, leaning forwards well into Ryan’s personal space (which he, oddly enough, didn’t mind as much as he’d expect to) and planting a quick kiss on his nose. He didn’t mind that much either, just pulling back carefully to roll his eyes. 

“Fine- fine! Let’s do some magic, why not? You owe me for indulging you.”

It was a month later that Ryan found himself sitting in the living room of the penthouse- the heist had gone well, minimal time spent respawning, the money had been split and his head was still pounding from the fall he’d taken off his bike earlier. It wasn’t anything life-threatening, nowhere near it, but the gentle throb and ache with every new sound wasn’t doing him any favors and if the mood in the room hadn’t been so pleasant he would have seriously considered popping a bullet between his eyes just to take care of it. 

He could always do that later, he reasoned.

Ryan hadn’t had much to drink, either, just a few shots in an attempt to dull the pain; so why was he finding himself creeping closer to it all being too much? Not the pain, no, he’d definitely been through worse- but the sounds, the smells, the way his own voice died on his lips as he mumbled gentle pleas for ‘could you all be quiet’ and attempted ‘excuse me’s- overstimulation. Too much, too fast, crashing down over him like a blanket of static until he realized he’d been pouring out a steadily growing stream of “shut up shut up **shut up** ” as it went from a whisper to a shout. 

And then he was screaming it, shrieking it, one long note sustained until it broke into what sounded and felt like a million different notes at once, all that anger and energy wrapped up and pushing out of his stomach through his throat.

He’d seen his crew die before, but not like this. Not the way their eyes rolled up and they fell to the floor lifeless like they had before he’d found it in him to stop screaming, standing numb in front of a room of his friends corpses. His body counted the time to respawn more than his mind did, fingers itching against his thighs, electric and wild. Even after an explosion, it was rare to have more than one person respawn at the same time, but to see five bodies come shocking back to life with mirrored betrayed shock painted across their features simultaneously made his skin crawl.

“I knew it! I bloody knew it- I said it, didn’t I- I said ‘Guys, something’s off, our Rye-bread ain’t all human’ and would you have a shitting look at that!”

Ryan did his best to ignore the money shuffling hands through the room as he clasped a hand over his mouth, focusing on keeping quiet- what if he opened it to speak and he did whatever _that_ was again? He moved, nauseous, right for the penthouse door.

Whatever it was, he wasn’t fucking saying anything again.


	3. Our Mistakes and Flaws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get a little personal.

When Jeremy finds him a few hours later, close to sunrise, he’s sitting on the hood of his car and his ass is numb. He could hear him coming half a mile off- something about being out in the deserts made sound travel and travel, and he’d heard Jeremy pace back and forth enough to have memorized his walking cadence. He wants, so badly, to tell him to fuck off. 

He doesn’t want to scream again, though, so telling him to fuck off will have to wait. (Wait, Ryan thinks, maybe forever. Maybe he’ll never speak again.)

Instead of the stumbling plea to come back he’s absolutely positive he’s going to get, Jeremy just climbs up onto the hood of the car with a gentle sigh, tucking his head into the space between Ryan’s jaw and shoulder. In the rising sunlight like this, he can see his radiance; the light catches Jeremy’s skin like it’s gilded, dancing in minute patterns as if it’s a blessing just to be touching him, motes rising and swirling in the air ahead of the car. His eyes, too, go golden with the sky, and god if Ryan can’t picture him in a suit of armor on a battlefield with the power of his own rage swarming around him like a halo. 

“My dad- I don’t know who he is.” The words rip Ryan from his foggy haze, and as he surfaced, whatever illusion the sun had played on his skin fades. He turned his head, nose pressing into short-cropped hair. “But he wasn’t- you know, human. We’re pretty sure- or, my mom was sure, she swore by it, that he was a god. A real one.” It was clear that he was picking his words carefully, stopping and starting. 

In lieu of a response, Ryan slipped his arm around his waist to pull him closer. 

“So I just wanted you to know, because Gavin told me you didn’t know about- any of us. I didn’t know until I was older, either, when I almost killed some guy with a baseball bat because he snuck up on me. It was rough- but I didn’t have anyone to talk to. You’ve got all of us.”

He opened his mouth, closed it again, swallowed, but the words weren’t coming forwards. It was like before- before he had joined the crew and before he’d gotten into wetwork, when he first slipped on the mask and relished in the comfort of not _needing_ to speak, when the words would form on his lips but something stuck in his throat when he tried to get them out. It comforted him slightly to know that Jeremy wasn’t necessarily looking for- waiting for- an answer and that they knew each other well enough to understand that even at the best of times, Ryan wasn’t going to talk. 

They’d both been new, and not that long after each other. Ryan had just barely managed to grab a hold of the ropes, get used to the magic keeping them from staying dead, swallow the feeling of passing out in a pool of his own blood only to sit up awake somewhere almost at random in their penthouse perfectly fine and clean. Jeremy had shot in like a bolt of lightning, charming everyone with how absolutely useless he seemed, until Ryan watched him tear a man’s head clean from his shoulders during a bank robbery gone sideways and might have fallen in love a little- though Ryan had also come, by the time Jeremy had shown up on their doorstep, to understand that everyone in the crew was in love with each other to some extent or another. They were _family_ , bound together by some invisible thread that sent shockwaves rippling whenever someone moved along the spidersilk. 

“What if I do that again?” The whisper came what felt like hours after Ryan had thought the words, carefully hoarse. 

“Do you want to do it again?” Jeremy was quick to answer, physically as well, wrapping an arm around him to anchor him- he appreciated it more than he’d ever let on. 

“No.”

“Then you won’t.” He sounded smug, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. 

“How do you know? I didn’t want to kill everyone tonight, but lo and fucking ba- _fuck_ behold, there you all went.” His tongue tripped over the words like it always did, betrayed his composure as he leaned his weight against Jeremy. 

“Because I know you, and you don’t ever get that loud unless you want to. It’s just something you’ll have to learn- you know, like shooting a rocket launcher. Or landing a plane. Gotta master screaming at someone loud enough to kill them- and imagine! You could clear out a whole room like that, no sweat.” 

As much as he wanted to chide him for that, tell him he wasn’t interested in even thinking about this, he couldn’t help but imagine strolling into a room of armed guards and just… shrieking them to death. In his mind, at least, it was kind of cool. 

“I thought banshees were all women. Is that what I am? A banshee?” He rubbed his cheek up along the shaved stubble of Jeremy’s undercut as he spoke, scratching his own against his scalp. He smelled like hair dye- Ryan could tell his was returning to his normal volume. 

“Are you a woman?” 

“I’m pretty sure I’m not.” He shrugged, pulling away so that he could, at the least, stretch his back out and let his ass have a break from that cold hard metal that his jeans did nothing to stop. 

“Then I guess they aren’t all women. C’mon. It’s late, everyone’s worried sick about you.” Jeremy slid off the hood of the car after him, boots kicking up little clouds of sand in the bleed of the sunrise. 

“Let’s wait until the sun comes up. They can squirm a little longer, don’t you think?” He leaned his hip against the hood, watching Jeremy brush off the seat of his pants. “So if Geoff’s a vampire and drinks blood, and Gavin does like, actual literal magic, what’s your deal? You’re super strong and quick and you’ve always got this sort of… really handsome statue thing going on, but is there anything else?” 

“If I can figure something else out, I’ll let you know. It’s a learning thing for most of us, there isn’t some playbook about how to be non-human.” 

Ryan laughed, and that morning in the sunrise, Jeremy glowed golden. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have plans for a very long and complicated Thing, so I'm just having fun writing vignettes that take place in an amorphous AU based on me talking about Geoff being a vampire in a car late at night on my way home from the beach. Think of them like totally unbeta'd warmups! (That being said, if you like to beta and want to trade the powers of extra eyes in exchange for requesting things.... let me know. Please, god, let me know.)
> 
> As always, if you see some glaring mistake, please don't hesitate to let me know! c:
> 
> Alternatively, "watching four hours of old heists is research, right?"


End file.
